


Assault

by Nova_Raven



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gone Wrong Au, Graphic Content in Chapter 2, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Sam and Colby go to prison
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29297280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nova_Raven/pseuds/Nova_Raven
Summary: “Colby’s voice sounds all too light to be discussing what they’re discussing, discussing… Sam doesn’t give the word room to exist in his mind.”
Relationships: Colby Brock & Sam Golbach
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	1. The Aftermath

When Sam first gets Colby back he doesn’t think there’s anything wrong.

Colby looks tired, and so, so relieved to see Sam. There’s a tension in his shoulders that only mostly falls off when Sam grips his hand tightly and pulls him against his chest. Colby clings to him, not letting go from the hug immediately and Sam doesn’t push him. Fuck, who knew what Colby had gone through in there? Sam had a panic attack last night and he’d been safe in a hotel room. “Good to have you back, man,” Sam murmurs to him, gripping Colby tightly to him.

“Good to be out, dude,” Colby whispers back, and this voice is maybe a little raspier than normal, but it’s not enough to raise red flags. 

Colby’s grip on him relaxes a little bit, and Sam pulls back to look at him. He meets Colby’s eyes with a faint grin. “Hope they weren’t too mean to you in there.”

Something passes over Colby’s face, too quick for Sam to register it, but he notices the way Colby quickly ends the hug, the brief tightness that moves through his form. Sam catches a dark spot along Colby’s jaw, almost hidden by his jawline. It looks almost like a bruise.

_ What... _

But then people are looking at him and Colby and one of the officers comes over to talk to them, making some crack about their fans blowing up the phone lines and they’re both grinning and joking back.

He’ll come back to it, later he resolves, because something… something is off. But they still need to finish processing Colby’s bail and get him out of here.

They’ll talk about it later.

It’s a stressful day, their team is stressed but not overly upset, thankfully. As one of their team comments, “It was bound to happen sooner or later. I’m just glad you two are okay.” And Sam watches Colby when she says that, watches the tightness of his jaw, the laugh that seems just too forced.

Being in jail just probably fucked him up a little bit, Sam figures. It certainly would have with Sam. The arrest had fucked him up enough and he’d slept in a hotel bed last night, Colby would have…

They’re finally back in the hotel room that night after way too much stress. They’re both quiet, not needing words in the aftermath of everything so when Colby says, “I gotta shower,” It’s the first words to pass between them in a few minutes.

“Yeah, sure,” Sam says, dropping his backpack on the bed. “Shit, have you not showered since we were arrested?”

Colby shakes his head, “Yeah, I’m fuckin’ gross,” He’s already halfway in the bathroom. 

“Yeah, shit, go for it,” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, already seeing text messages from the legal team (fuck, they had a legal team now) on his phone. “I’ll be out here if you need anything.”

“Yeah, sure,” And the door closes. Sam hears the water start, the curtain pull shortly after.

He absently pokes through their social medias, grinning a little bit at the shit storm trending on twitter. Apparently their fans had blown up where Colby was being held, and Sam can’t help but laugh a little bit at the mental image of the poor people who’d’ve had to answer the phone. Fuck… they aren’t allowed to post about it yet, per their legal team, but Sam really wants to say something about the whole thing.

But he doesn’t.

He isn’t quite aware how long he’s been digging through the hashtags, absently answering messages from Stacy, who’s still firing legal questions at him, and his parents and the group chat, assuring everyone they’re okay, back at the hotel. But then he glances at the time and realizes that it’s been close to half an hour and Colby is still in the shower.

It isn’t unheard of. Sam still recalls days when Colby would run through the entire hot water supply at the house, but this… Sam shrugs, just figuring that the hot water must feel good after the whole jail situation.

And then another fifteen minutes tick by. Now Sam’s a little bit worried, frowning and setting his phone down. He’ll just check at the door, he figures, make sure that Colby hasn’t like, fallen asleep or something.

He gets up, moving over to the bathroom door and knocking lightly on it. “Yo, Colby, you good, man?”

There’s a pause, and then a quick, “Yeah, man, I’m fine,” Another pause, and then a, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“‘Kay…” Is he jacking off in there? Sam didn’t think he’d be in the mood after all of this (didn’t really want to think about Colby being in the mood) but he figures, meh, not a huge deal. Colby can do whatever the fuck he wants.

Sam hears the water shut off, hears Colby move absently around the bathroom from where he’s moved back to the bed. And it’s fine, totally fine, and Sam doesn’t really suspect anything until Colby steps out of the bathroom, towel around his waist, and Sam sees bruises.

There’s multiple dark marks on Colby’s left hip, partially visible over the top of the fabric even through the flushed redness of his skin. The dark mark on his jawline looks more visible now, and there’s a dark, red bruise imbedded in Colby’s shoulder.

Sam knows that bruise. That’s a fucking hickey, and an angry one at that. He can see the bruises from teeth around the red. That’s when Colby meets his eyes, and they’re glossy and empty and lost...

Sam’s on his feet before he fully registers the movement, moving towards Colby, quick and desperate. Something is wrong, something…

But then Colby flinches when Sam reaches for him.

Sam brings himself to a stop with effort, but that doesn’t stop him from demanding, “What the fuck happened?” Because Sam sees the marks, the body language, knows where Colby’s been, and his brain makes the connection. He’s praying to God that Colby has a different explanation because he really, really doesn’t want it to be the connection he’s made.

Colby won’t meet his eyes. “Lemme uh… lemme get some pants on and uh…” Colby’s voice is faint, “Then I’ll uh… yeah…”

“Yeah, sure, sure,” Sam steps back, clearing the way so that Colby can get to his bag. His heart is twisting in his chest, so fucking scared, fucking angry that this happened, the connection that he thinks he’d made.

Colby quickly pulls on joggers and a hoodie, covering the bruises on his body in the process. Sam’s arms are crossed, his stance tight, and he consciously forces himself to relax his expression, forces himself to sit down, even though he’s so on edge.

Colby pauses, before he sits down on the bed across from Sam. Sam watches, watches to see if the movement looks painful. Colby doesn’t seem to react, and Sam lets himself have a little hope.

And then Colby’s seated, and he looks up at Sam. “I uh… I don’t know where to start?” Colby admits quietly, and his hands are twisting in his lap.

Colby’s really messed up about it, Sam realizes, feeling the hope in his chest sink a little bit. But he keeps a straight face for Colby. “At the beginning?” He asks, “Like… when they separated us?”

Colby takes and releases a deep breath. He seems to steel himself. “Okay, I can do that,” He says, “So… they took me to the back, right?”

Sam listens as Colby talks about the hours of his friend’s life he missed, from the cavity checks to the strip search and Colby’s stupid trying to stay keto thing. Colby even manages to crack a few jokes, but by the time they’ve gotten to Colby being put in a cell… Colby’s tone sombers.

“And so, they put this guy in my cell and I’m like, this is it. This is where I get fucked in the ass, this is where I get-” He stops, his whole body trembling.

Sam doesn’t know what to say, his breath feeling caught in his chest. Colby seems equally frozen, hands agitating his rings. “So… what…?” He doesn’t want to ask.

“Well, he didn’t get his dick in me,” Colby says, and Sam’s momentarily relieved. Unfortunately, something tells him that Colby isn’t quite done with the story.

“So, where did…” Sam gestures at his own body, at the approximate location of the bruises on Colby’s. “Where did all of this…?” He wants so bad to wrap his arms around Colby…

Colby chuckles a little bit, and it sounds too broken to be a mirthful sound. “Well, he still... still stuck his fingers up there, so… I mean, he still had to hold me down for that.” Colby’s voice sounds all too light to be discussing what they’re discussing, discussing… Sam doesn’t give the word room to exist in his mind.

“Dude…” Sam breathes, wanting to reach for Colby, comfort him, but not sure if he’s allowed.

Colby’s staring into space. “I couldn’t…” Sam watches Colby’s throat bob on a swallow. “I couldn’t… like he had his hand over my mouth to keep me from yelling and I couldn’t fucking breathe Sam, I couldn’t fucking breathe and he just…”

Sam can’t hold himself back anymore. He launches forward and wraps arms around Colby. Colby lets out a startled noise, his body jumping, but he still wraps arms back around Sam.

So Colby hadn’t been… but he’d still been…

“Fuck…” Sam mutters, and he hears the quiet hum Colby returns in response. Sam holds Colby against him until he feels the trembling ease, feels the tightness in his body abate. Sam too is trying to calm the roaring in his chest, the fury and pain at what had been done to his friend, at what had almost been done to his friend… “Did you tell anyone?” Sam asks quietly.

Colby snorts. “What are they gonna do? Put him in jail?”

Sam sighs, because he’s not wrong. “But they… I mean he didn’t get to…”

Colby shudders. “No… no, he didn’t. Someone… someone pulled him off of me before…” He doesn’t need to say it. “And then they put him in another room.”

“Thank God for that…” Sam murmurs, and he hears Colby’s hummed agreement. And then he asks the question, maybe a stupid one, but the one he feels like he needs to ask. “Are you okay?”

“Uh…” He hears another stuttered laugh. “I don’t… I don’t know…” And Sam draws back to look at Colby. He can see a strange look in Colby’s eyes, something distant, injured but… Colby’s not crying. “I don’t… I don’t think I’ve like… processed it yet.”

Sam nods. “Shit…” He doesn’t know what to say.

Colby just nods back. “Yeah.”

Because Colby was… because he wasn’t but he was but… 

“I’m here for you,” Sam murmurs. “I’m here for you. You know that.”

He watches Colby nod. “Yeah, I know…” He says. “I know…” He rests his head on Sam’s shoulder.

They don’t move for a while after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I got a lovely comment on one of my older pieces (Unthinkable, check it out here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18518626) and it made me realize I haven't dealt with this theme in a while and for some reason this little one shot happened. I kinda like it.
> 
> Obviously this takes place during/after Sam and Colby go to jail. I just took some creative liberties with the course of events.
> 
> Would anyone be interested in a uh... darker and more explicit part 2? If you know me you can probably guess what that would entail.
> 
> Alright, well that's all from me. As always, let me know what you thought, thank you for reading, and I'll see you all in the next one!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic depictions of non-con/rape ahead! Read at your own risk!

“So you’re the new guy…”

The voice comes from the doorway. Colby looks up from the book he’s trying and failing to read, dread sinking acutely into his gut. “Hey,” He says, trying not to sound as nervous as he feels.

Nervous is an understatement. He’s fucking terrified. And suddenly wishing he hadn’t chosen to pull the top half of his jumpsuit down so that the white tank underneath is all he’s wearing on top. 

_Maybe then he’d feel a little less vulnerable at the eyes that are so clearly taking in every part of his form..._

His visitor takes a few steps towards him, and Colby takes the man in as he struggles to not physically move away. 

_Not that he’d have much of anywhere to go. He’s already curled up in the furthest corner of his bunk, against the wall..._

The guy is huge, at least six foot four, and he’s big. Not fat, not overly muscular… just big. He’s got the skin of someone who’s spent years in the sun, and thinning dark hair that barely covers his scalp.

Colby’s thumb goes to fidget with a ring that isn’t there.

The man doesn’t respond to his greeting, his eyes moving up and down Colby’s form in a way that immediately sets fear racing through Colby’s veins. “Look man, I don’t want any trouble,” Colby says quietly, setting the book down.

That’s when his visitor grins. “Then we want the same thing.”

_He’s missing at least three of his teeth, and the others are yellow and misshapen. Nausea half from anxiety and half from the sight roils through his gut…_

“My name’s Colby,” He tries introducing himself, gritting his teeth as the man steps closer. 

_He’s not going to show this man how scared he is…_

The man doesn’t respond, just continues to grin at him. He’s close now, getting into arms reach of Colby. 

_He balls his fists into his lap to hide the shaking…_

“Hey, dude, you’re kinda freakin’ me out,” Colby says, forcing a laugh to his voice.

_Anything to bely the terror eating up his insides…_

The man’s hand reaches out and Colby flinches before he can stop it. He sees the filthy grin grow larger, and he jerks back as the back of the hand runs across his cheek. “Dude, what are you…?”

And then there’s _stars_ and _impact_ and _pain_ as the back of his head slams into the stone wall behind him. Colby’s hands come up on instinct to grip at the hand that’s wrapped around his throat as he yelps in pained alarm. When the world comes back into focus, there’s dark, crazy eyes staring into his own.

_Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck…_

“Dude…” Colby manages, the words feeling choked out of him, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“You.”

At first, the meaning of the word doesn’t register, and Colby feels like there’s this long moment where he stares into the man’s eyes, at his fucking smile, at the yellow of those teeth and fuck he smells so bad… 

But maybe it’s only a second lost in time, a second immortalized by his racing, terrified brain, because the next thing he’s aware of is someone else’s hand pushing down the front of his pants.

“Hey!” He gets that one out pretty clearly. There’s only a split second of shock here, because his body figures out _bad touch bad touch bad touch_ much faster than it had figured out the chokehold because there’s only one direction that this could be going and Colby wants _none_ of that.

“Hey, stop!” And he goes to yell again, hands trying to pull the offending hand from his groin even as he feels rough hands close around sensitive skin, so he doesn’t see the punch until it’s too late.

The fist catches him on the underside of the jaw, sending everything spinning worse than before, and Colby’s yell of pain and fear is trapped behind a hand that covers his mouth and part of his nose.

He tries to suck in a breath through a constricted airway, and he can’t. Suddenly, that becomes his first priority because he can’t breathe, _he can’t breathe…_

He’s getting choked little gasps of air that aren’t nearly enough to satisfy the panicked hole that’s ripping open in his lungs. Through the fog of panic, he feels himself being manhandled, shoved down onto his stomach, fingers digging tight into his hip. He loses one hand, and then the other, both of them struggling at the small of his back against what feels like a knee holding them down. The hand over his mouth shifts a little bit, letting Colby gasp in a slightly larger breath, but now it’s not just the blockage over his airway- the weight of the knee in his back is crushing his ribcage too.

For a moment, the movement stops, and Colby’s able to get enough oxygen that he kinda no longer feels like he’s gonna pass out. He’s pinned down on the rock hard bunk, hands trapped behind him, this guy’s hand that’s probably as gross as he is wrapped around his mouth but… he can breathe right?

Colby struggles to turn his head, finally catching the gaze of the man on top of him. He’s still grinning that same disgusting, toothy grin, but now there’s a tinge of victory to it.

Colby doesn’t even want to think about the fear that he’s sure is clear across his face. He can’t talk, but he thinks he knows where this is going, and he pleads with his eyes for the man not to do it, to please, please, please, just let him go.

_He feels tears of pain and fear burn in his eyes…_

The man just leans in closer to him and murmurs, “No trouble, remember?”

Colby shakes his head as best he can, fucking terrfied. 

He doesn’t want this, he doesn’t…

“Good,” The man murmurs, and he pulls Colby’s head to the side as Colby feels teeth sink into his neck.

Colby lets out of cry of pain, thrashing against the hold before he freezes when he feels another hand shoving his pants down his hips. He yells again, as best he can against the hand over his mouth, because he doesn’t want this he doesn’t, he wants to go home, he wants Sam, he wants more than anything to not be here, in this fucking prison, in this fucking cell, being held down and choked and _…_

“Shhh…” His attacker breaks the bite to murmur, “No trouble, remember? No trouble...”

Colby can’t stop the yell of panic that still tries to emerge, because his pants barely offer any resistance and there’s hands, there're hands in bad places, and _please please please please_ …

“Shhh…” The man says again, and this time, he shifts his hand to partially cover Colby’s nose again, and yelling isn’t an option when oxygen isn’t available.

The hand retreats for a moment, and there’s a spitting sound before Colby feels pressure, and stretching, and _wrong wrong wrong stop stop stop…_

It hurts. It hurts so fucking bad, his body fighting every inch of the invasion and he knows this is just fingers, knows that this is so much less than what will be coming but fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he can’t, fuck...

And he’s praying to God as one finger turns to two, and he can hardly breathe, and he can’t move, and he can’t stop this awful, awful thing that happening, because he’s being held down and choked and this man is going to-

“Oh, what the fuck!”

And suddenly the pressure on him and in him is gone and he’s scrambling, scrambling up and away from where he can hear and kinda halfway register movement until he feels cold stone wall press against his back. He kinda halfway realizes that there are other prisoners and they’re yelling as he pulls his jumpsuit up and over his shoulders because he needs… he needs to be covered he needs…

_Fuck, fuck, fuck..._

There’s some yelling, but it fades from being in the room with him in a few moments. Or maybe it's a few minutes. He’s not really sure. He feels oddly disconnected from his body, mostly only able to curl into himself and away from the loud. He’s still shaking, his breath still coming in rapid pants, still not here, _not here..._

There’s a voice talking to him, and it takes a moment for Colby to pull his face out of his hands and realize it’s one of the other prisoners, talking to him quietly from where he's curled into the far corner of the cell. His ears feel like they’re ringing, so he shakes his head to clear them, managing to get out through a rough throat, “What?”

The new guy’s looking at him, concern across his face. “You okay, kid?” He’s got a slight Spanish accent, curly dark hair pulled into the ponytail at the nape of his neck.

Colby doesn’t know how to answer that question. There’s something ripping, roaring, raw, at the center of his gut, but it’s not… he can’t really see it right now.

It’s there but… he’s here. He’s here and that’s not real right now.

He’s not sure if he shakes or nods his head, but the other guy starts talking. “Jesus, man, sorry about that. Eli’s a dick but we’d never looked at him and thought rapist, you know?”

Colby felt his eyebrows scrunch together. “What?”

“Shit, man, I’m sorry.” For a moment, Colby’s afraid he’s gonna pick up where the other guy left off, so when the new guy moves a little closer Colby feels how his whole body jolts. The new guy freezes, “Shit, fuck, man, I’m not gonna touch you, okay?” He extends a hand to Colby, “You can call me Jay.”

Colby looks at the hand, then at the smiling face extending it. He doesn’t… fuck… he doesn’t seem like he wants to hurt him... “Colby…” He introduces himself shakily, bringing his hand to grip the other guy’s firmly.

Jay seems pleased. He disconnects the handshake and sits back on the ground, body language open and friendly. “Hey, Colby,” He says. “So what brings you to our side of the prison.”

Colby’s ragged breathing is slowly evening out, his heart gradually stopping its panicked race in his chest. Jay seems… Jay doesn’t seem like he wants to hurt him... “Uh…” He swallows on a raw throat, “Trying to make a YouTube video and getting arrested for trespassing.”

“Shit, man, really?” Jay laughs, “That’s it?”

The man’s smile is infectious, and despite the previous trauma and panic (or maybe because of it) Colby feels a slight smile tug at his lips, “I mean, the wallet full of fake ID’s didn’t help me out once I got here.”

“Aw shit,” Jay chuckled, “That’s how they getcha. You got someone to bail you out?”

The tight coil in his gut loosens a little bit. Because he’s fucked, he’s so fucked up right now but… he’s not going to think about that right now. Instead, he lets himself think about Sam, and the fact that even now Sam’s gotta be working to get him out of here, and tries to distance himself from the rotting hole with ragged edges in his psyche.

“Yeah, my best friend should be getting me out of here soon…”

He’ll deal with… _that_ … later…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... what do we think?
> 
> So, that was written in a single session. I always kinda feel like a bad person when I write shit like this but... well, we’re all here now, so I know you guys like it.
> 
> I have an idea for a part three already (featuring Colby&Kat friendship) that would deal with some of the aftermath so that may be coming with time. 
> 
> Alright, as always, hope you enjoyed, let me know what you thought, and I'll see you guys in the next one!


End file.
